


Blooded Hallows

by tetryx



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Feels, F/M, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-05 04:13:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14035929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetryx/pseuds/tetryx
Summary: Nobody knows a war more devastating than a blood feud that lives on through and through in the flowing streams of eternity. Nobody knows a life more harrowing than the writhing forgotten souls chained to the earth by their abysmal despair. Nobody knows a time longer than the perpetuity of forever.Nobody will save these dear fallen hallows...





	1. Chapter 1

Ming Hao thought a deep voice as smooth as silk accompanied that spellbinding visage of his but was pleasantly surprised when the boy’s lips parted to introduce himself. Instead the boy’s voice was sweet as honey and pitched higher than he had expected.

His strawberry blond hair was swept up in a tasteful cowlick and bits of his fringe were left to fall over his left eye. Paired with a rather angular jaw and defining cheekbones, his strong nose created an impressive profile that went nicely with the warm charcoal black eyes and small uncertain smile.

The sort of beauty that borders upon ethereality.

Ming Hao nodded in response, grasping the boy’s outstretched hand in a firm shake, “Nice to meet you, Jun Hui. My name is Xu Ming Hao.”

Jun Hui’s face lit up at the name, one side of his lips raising slightly higher than the other. “Oh, you’re Chinese too! Are you from China?” The earlier awkwardness all but dissipated as he spoke his words now with more enthusiasm.

“Yes, I am,” Ming Hao’s eyes softened and his lips pulled back into a soft half-smile.

Hearing that, the other boy immediately switched from Korean to Chinese, “Well, brother. Welcome to PAI. Pledis Arts Institution.”

“Since you transferred in in the middle of the semester, you missed orientation. I’ll show you around campus,” he started walking and led Ming Hao out of the administration office.

“You’re in Dance, right?” he questioned excitedly to which Ming Hao only nodded silently.

“Great, we’re in the same course,” he chimed as they crossed a narrow grass patch, “I’m your senior, by the way.”

After walking past various buildings and listening to Jun Hui explaining everything he needed to know like a good junior would, they parted ways beneath the stairs leading into an auditorium. Jun Hui had excused himself to rush across campus for dance practice, emptying his entire bottle of water as he went.

Poor boy, he worked so hard explaining but Ming Hao didn’t really need someone to show him around. Since his family practically owns this institution. He should have just stopped the boy and insisted on navigating the campus himself but that light honeyed voice became more distracting than he would admit. Normally, it would be forty-seven minutes that he so unwisely wasted but, he believed this time, it was time well spent. Knowing Wen Jun Hui certainly wasn’t a waste.

Besides, he had all the time in the world.

He tucked his hands into his coat pockets, a small smile playing on his lips as he relived the moment Jun Hui started talking. He hadn’t been in school for a long time, he’d been learning by himself for most of the time he’d been out of touch with the world. He might as well enjoy whatever bits of fun now before the work assigned to him by his family begins.

Ming Hao made his way back to the administration building, gradually shifting his posture, the slight slouch of teenage awkwardness melted away. His shoulders squared and his heavy steps making his boots thud against the ground. If he’s going to speak with the director of this institute, there would be no need to pretend. He strolled out of the elevator on the fifth floor. He stopped at the second door to his left.

Nearly a beat after his boots met the ground, a low voice announced from within the room, “Come in.”

He turned the brass knob and pushed open the polished ebony door.

The voice only continued once he pushed the door shut and sat himself in a plush armchair to the side of the office.

“Seo Myungho, what a surprise.”

He lips curled in a thin smile upon hearing his name. He was irritated by it but the director didn’t need to know that. He wished the latter would put aside all the lies and pretence, he found it incredibly mundane to have a conversation as if they didn’t know what was truly going on. He stayed silent as he picked at a loose thread on the edge of his seat.

The director, sensing that he had wanted a different response, leaned back in his swivel chair and offered a more amiable smile, “What brings you here?”

He answered, slightly amused now, “I want to return to school. See how the education is like these days.” He kept a demure smile on his face, glancing through his lashes at the other man like a predator stalking its quarry. He should have known as soon as Ming Hao set foot on campus that he was being investigated. It was too early for this visit to be the usual half-yearly inspection of the family’s institutions. And, of course, if this was any normal investigation, the family head wouldn’t have sent someone like Ming Hao to conduct it.

Kangmin, dressed sharply in a black shirt and a maroon suit jacket, neatly groomed dark hair littered with grey streaks and bearing a sour frown framed with lines of age and wear. His gravelly rumbling voice would speak of virtue and discipline. Seemingly a sensible man in his late 50s. You’d think he would make a wise decision and stop asking questions or, better yet, quit acting innocent and run for his life.

“Did the old man send you?”

He finally looked up at the other man. His contempt had began to reveal itself as he flashed the other a dazzling grin. “Some respect will do you good, Kangmin,” he drawled, contrary to the face he’s making.

Kangmin stared at the boy with sterling silver hair, his expression unreadable. Maybe he was glaring at him, maybe he was simply glowering, maybe he was thinking about whatever papers he may have forgotten to sign. “How is he?” the man ended up asking instead.

 _You would know if you attended the meeting a week ago_ , Ming Hao retorted silently. “He’s fine, as usual,” he entertained the other man’s question, flicking his fingers.

The man watched him carefully then questioned again, “What will you be needing?”

He finally stopped busying his right hand on the piece of black thread poking out of his armchair and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. His grin morphed into one with more condescension and arrogance. He was beginning to wonder how slow Kangmin truly was to not spare himself, at least, one question.

If Jeonghan wasn’t so dead set on gathering evidence to expose Kangmin, he’d already be dragging this blubbering idiot back home. He never understood why Jeonghan managed the family this way. Jeonghan wanted to ‘make an example’ of all these scumbags. They all knew what happens to those who endanger the family, what’s the point of dragging it out and giving them more time to escape when they can be offed on the spot. Right now, staring into Kangmin’s watery soulless eyes, Ming Hao was very sure. This man wouldn’t even be able to take a step away from his desk before his body hits the floor.

Neither of them moved. Kangmin’s eyes shifted quickly to look down at the table before swiftly locking with Ming Hao’s again. “Not much. Just the records of all staff and students for the past seven years,” the boy began, breaking the eye contact first by standing up and fixing the lapels of his coat.

“I’ll have someone send it to you by tonight,” the other replied after a curt nod, getting up from his chair as well.

Ming Hao bit back another acidic remark. Kangmin was making his move right now. Grabbing at straws in hopes of clearing himself of any faults. He just didn’t expect the other to do so so obviously right in front of him. Both of them knew as well as the other that this investigation wasn’t about Pledis, it was about him. By the time those records made it into Ming Hao’s hands, every irregularity would have been wiped from the documents. Sure, there are other grave errors of Kangmin’s to be revealed but the family would’ve lost their strongest point of argument to expel him. Jeonghan was adamant that this particular lead was investigated thoroughly and had to be headed by one of the elites in the family. The evidence against Kangmin had to tie in whatever shady business he had with Pledis’ students and staff, thus, an indirect link to the family but a good enough excuse to put him on the chopping block.

“Oh, no thank you,” the sweet overly-friendly nuance of his voice peeked through his similarly radiant smile as he beamed at the unmistakable rigidity that overcame Kangmin’s limbs when he wrenched open the door. “Don’t trouble yourself,” he blurted out with an sheepish little giggle, veiling himself once again with his innocuous affectation.

_The trouble will find you very soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hey, readers. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I’ll try my best to update it as regularly as I can. If you have any questions, please leave a comment!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this chapter isn’t too much of a letdown after I took my sweet time trying to write it.
> 
> Keyword: trying

The cafeteria was fairly empty when Ming Hao pushed through its swinging double doors.

 

He approached the lone figure seated at one corner of the cafeteria. This person wasn’t who he was waiting for, the frown on his lips deepened as he pulled up a chair next to the person. “Yonghwa? Where the hell is Mingyu?” he asked, his voice had risen a few octaves by the end of his question.

 

Ming Hao was obviously peeved. Mingyu had the gall to text him _Not now_ when he had asked for him and actually not show up at all. Wonwoo was the one who was supposed to accompany Ming Hao on this investigation but since he disappeared somewhere two days ago, Jeonghan had Mingyu take over Wonwoo’s task. Yet, during when Mingyu was supposed to fulfil his role and deliver, he decided to abandon it.

 

The boy before him was dressed plainly in all black. The single pop of colour being his unruly coppery orange hair. His white t-shirt peeking out of the pitch black hoodie he dressed himself in with a dark quilted bomber jacket haphazardly pulled over it. He must’ve been asleep when Mingyu pushed his responsibilities onto him. He side-eyed Ming Hao and sighed. “It’s not his fault. Jeonghan called him to Jongno-gu just now,” he continued, shiny brown irises returning to the notebook propped open on the table.

 

“What for?” Ming Hao questioned, his eyebrows pinching together. The belligerent glare on his face was in turn awash with genuine confusion.

 

Yonghwa gave him another look and promptly shrugged.

 

That reaction irked him. Under any other circumstances, he would have been pissed but he knew that they shouldn’t say more. Discussing sensitive matters that involve Jeonghan pulling elite members out from their assignments out in the open in Pledis’ cafeteria was far from ideal, especially since Pledis was still technically Kangmin’s turf. If Mingyu was the one called upon to take care of something in spite of his assignment with Ming Hao, it would be either because he messed up or because it was something undisclosed to all but the elites. The others had their hands full recently, Wonwoo was nowhere to be found and Mingyu just finished his own assignment the day before. It made sense that Jeonghan called Mingyu then, Ming Hao could handle this assignment well enough—perhaps even better—with Yonghwa’s assistance.

 

Next to him, Yonghwa was furiously typing into the notebook. His phone chimed a second later, the screen lighting up to alert him of new mail in his inbox. It was his turn to eye Yonghwa out of the corner of his eyes. The boy remained decidedly expressionless and quiet, answering him with only the soft clacking of his keyboard.

 

The e-mail read: _Cha Yongho. The Japanese branch chief executive landed in Incheon this morning. He was spotted in Seoul a few hours ago, so Jeonghan thought it would be best to bring him in. Remember him? The guy who’s been channeling company funds into his personal accounts for years._

 

Ming Hao frowned again, his gaze returning to the name mentioned in the mail. He made a small noise then shook his head gently, “Which one is he?”

 

Not a minute later, another mail appeared in his inbox to answer his question:

 

_Ah, right. That wasn’t his name the last time you saw him. I’m talking about Kim Daehoon. He’s the slimy bootlicker who won’t stop buzzing around Jeonghan. He didn’t just embezzle money from our Japan branch, two of our Chinese branches and another branch in Indonesia were targeted too. The amount of blackmail material he has is no joke. He’s pressured a lot of our handpicked personnel into silence. Jeonghan would’ve considered turning a blind eye and left it up to the investigative departments but a big chunk of that money is going to Lee Kangmin._

 

He spent a few more moments in relative silence, rereading the e-mail. A vague image of Kim Daehoon surfaced in his mind. He remembered a stocky man, little on the short side with thick tousled hair and a band of silver crowned by a flattering piece of onyx that circled the man’s finger.

 

“Ah,” Ming Hao finally voiced in acknowledgement. He turned his attention to Yonghwa now, leaning on the back of his chair. “How is it coming along?” he questioned, the tilt of his head indicating the screen of the notebook that displayed the process of the school’s staff and student records being downloaded.

 

The ever silent boy breathed out a quiet sigh and started speaking in his own light raspy tones, “It’s a lot of information we have here. It’ll be done by tonight, if nothing goes wrong.”

 

He hummed and nodded. He shifted his chair closer to Yonghwa’s but before the question even left his lips, Yonghwa had pulled up the briefcase from under his chair and dropped it in his lap. “The equipment,” the copper-haired boy gave a curt answer and turned back to the notebook.

 

“Jeonghan wants you to monitor him,” Yonghwa, seeing the sour look on Ming Hao’s face, chose to cut in at that moment to inform him.

 

“Monitor him,” he deadpanned.

 

Yonghwa shrugged once again.

 

Now, he was mad, “As if we couldn’t make what it is we’re doing here any more obvious.”

 

He flipped open the black hard plastic briefcase, giving the various tiny devices inside a once over then closed it with a sharp _click_.

 

Yonghwa threw him a stern look. He could tell that the boy wanted to sigh but had simply sank lower into his own chair. “We made it clear to him that he’s on thin ice and if he tampered with any of the information we are looking for,” he murmured, “it wouldn’t be an excuse...”

 

“It would be sabotage,” Ming Hao finished, eyes drifting back to the glaring white screen. Watching as the green line filled the bar, the window would flicker from the screen and another would pop up with an empty bar to fill.

 

_And Jeonghan would want to know about it._

 

Kangmin had officially made his way onto Jeonghan’s radar. Frankly, he almost wished he hadn’t. Knowing Jeonghan’s temperament, it meant that he would have wanted to slowly fence him in, surround him with landmines, hover around him with threats and wound the invisible rope of control around him so tightly that it constricts him. Only then would Jeonghan want to strike. As sudden as a preying crocodile by the shallows, more than eager to drag a struggling animal down into the murky depths of inherent horror.

 

It meant more work for the rest of them to make themselves more privy to Kangmin’s every whim, to pave the subtle layers of pressure over him. Because of him, now Ming Hao had the pleasure of personally bugging every room he had ever used and hang around the campus like a walking warning sign.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Pledis Arts Institution is a rather new institution. Occupying a tiny plot of land in the middle of the bustling Gangnam District for barely over ten years. Offering various programs for performing arts, fine arts, multimedia studies and the list gradually lengthens as the years progress. Whatever history it has, it never ran deeper than the several dozen awards raked in by a number of their most diligent and talented students. Well, a few years ago, two of its students had debuted with an enormously popular idol group. Thus, earning quite a bit of attention and the institution saw to a larger pool of young talents joining their programmes in the following years.

 

The campus itself is made up of a sparse number of buildings. Structured to resemble different geometric shapes jutting out of the ground, panelled by tall glass windows and completed with clean single-coloured walls.

Patches of sprucely greens slither between each building, flanking them were clusters of birch and alders and in the heart of the green paths was a sizeable pond dotted with dewed water lilies.

 

Compared to the other institutes and universities that his family had founded, Pledis could never compare. Never to the endless streams of exceptional graduates they produce each year, never to the highly-acclaimed bachelor’s programmes, never to the gargantuan campuses that span over hundreds of acres.

 

Never to the ominously bloody history they all seem to share. At least, he sincerely hoped not.


End file.
